


just for the fuck of it

by Kangoo



Series: Front toward enemy [6]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: the vanguard discuss razel's fighting style... or something





	just for the fuck of it

**Author's Note:**

> title from hozier's 'to noise making'
> 
> i'm done uploading those from tumblr, yay! sorry for the spam

“I just don’t understant-”

Ikora hums, like she understands Zavala perfectly despite his sentence never finding an end. “I know. An Awoken Warlock, it invokes an idea of- temperance, or wisdom, or at least something eldritch and otherworldly, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. The darkness between the stars, the great yawning abyss of the Void and all that jazz,” Hawthorne adds helpfully, with a touch of sarcasm that completely flies over the Warlock’s head.

The three of them turn their eyes to the lone figure below. Razel is a whirlwind of metal and embers in the heart of the Fallen crowd, slicing through the horde with little to no regard for his own safety. His long coat is torn and charred, covered in dried blood both his and alien, and as they watch a blast from a Captain’s weapon tears a new burning hole through the hem.

He turns on the creature and, his blade caught in another’s shoulder, punches it in the face. There’s enough power behind the blow to send it flying off, its body turning to ashes before it can touch the ground.

It’s an impressive display, yet it’s hard to forget that the Awoken has the tactical mind of a dim rock and the physical resilience of a wet paper towel when his distraction leaves him wide open for an attack and a blast goes right through his chest, sending him to the ground in a heap of bloody flesh.

Cayde-6 winces in sympathy. Razel’s ghost is already whizzing around, working to raise the Guardian, but it can’t feel nice to go down like that, immortal or not.

Finally, Hawthorne speaks up.

“He’s _so fucking stupid_ ,” she says with a kind of stunned wonder as Razel jumps to his feet, cracks his neck and goes right back to it, taking up his sword from where it clattered to the ground when he got hit. “How has he survived for so long?”

“I’d expect this from a Hunter, a Titan even-” (” _Hey_ ,” says Zavala, not denying it.) “But a _Warlock_? Does he even meditate, or did the untold powers of the universe fall down in his lap one day after one too many blows to the head? Are you sure he’s not one of yours, Cayde?”

“ _Hey_ ,” Cayde says, not denying it either. Hunters are competent and scarily lethal sometimes, but they’re not the best at having a survival instinct. “I’m pretty sure the guy has never touched a gun in his entire life, thank you very much.”

(Actually, he has. The problem is that the only guns he uses happen to be close-quarter hand cannons, which lend themselves to his… ‘fighting style’, or grenade launchers which he happens to fire at the exact same range, often blowing himself up in the process. Even with _sniper rifles_ he goes up-and-personal with his target.)

All doubts are soon erased from their minds on Razel’s class as the Awoken, having resorted to his fist about five minutes ago to clean up the group of Fallen, finally has enough of them and jumps above their heads. He lifts his hand and fire engulfs him, flames taking the shape of two wings at his back and a burning sword in his hand. The fire strikes soon take care of what’s left of the Fallen, leaving behind small lumps of ashes blown away by the wind.

He swears when he hits the ground and immediately collapses, a loud _crack_ being heard even from their observation spot as his shin gives out from under him. That’s what you get from falling from fifteen feet without trying to cushion your fall in any way.


End file.
